


In Our Bedroom After the War

by Ray43



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 05:29:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20791403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray43/pseuds/Ray43
Summary: Once it was established that Minerva sleeps, it wasn't that surprising that some nights it wasn't easy for her.





	In Our Bedroom After the War

**Author's Note:**

> _Wake up, say good morning to_  
_That sleepy person lying next to you_  
_If there's no one there, then there's no one there_  
_But at least the war is over_
> 
> _It's us, yes, we're back again_  
_Here to see you through 'til the day's end_  
_And if the night comes, and the night will come_  
_Well at least the war is over_

“Minerva?” In the darkness of their bedroom Duck feels himself slip into a foggy half-awake state. He watches as Minerva’s silhouetted form (which had been sitting up, unmoving like a statue) quickly turns towards him. It’s too dark to actually see the expression on her face, so he tries to feel out the mood by waiting for her response.

“Wayne Newton! I apologize. It seems I have disturbed your well-earned rest!” Minerva says. Though her tone carries that same upbeat lilt, her shoulders tense up and Duck is given a view of her profile as she turns her face away.

“S’ no… S’ no big, Min’. You mind if I turn on a light?”

“I do not, Wayne Newton. But it is wise if I shall do it instead, as I have been granted a more advantageous position due to our prior agreement that I remain on the side nearest the door.” she reasons. He sees her reach from the edge of the bed, probably for the makeshift string of the lamp on their nightstand. 

(Makeshift because the first time she had gotten her hand around it the plastic thingamabob at the end got crushed in the grip of her 6 fingers. She’d smiled so sheepishly then, readily climbing out of bed to unplug the lamp from the outlet instead, reassured when he told her those things were made too easy to break anyway.)

Now in the warm light of the lamp, he sees her skin bathed in a warm orange glow. Her blue markings seem to have quieted in the night, matching her face. In the day, Minerva had always looked— always was at the peak of physical capability. She prided herself with her athleticism, sharp mind, and boundless energy, and he loves her for it. But now?

She looks weary, pensive, and tired. This is another part of Minerva, a part of her that makes him ache. She lays back down, slowly. She looks at (or rather through) the ceiling, eyes flickering like she’s expecting it to open up at any second. This Minerva he loves just the same.

“Want to keep the sword under the pillows tonight?” he asks, looking at her intently. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips, finally having her look at him.

“That will not be necessary, Wayne Newton.” she assuages, “My dreams tonight are not of imminent danger, though I know you are aware, as we share prophetic visions. Neither are they memories of the many battles I have partaken in. I am pleased that, as my partner, your capacity for observation has allowed for you to deduce that these leave me more vigilant to possible assailants.” She shifts under the covers, orienting her body towards him and letting a hand rest in the sheets between them. “But, no. My dreams tonight, Wayne Newton, are… quiet.”

“A bad quiet?” he tries. 

He’s never thought Minerva to see anything as quiet, mostly since her personality just fills up a room, and as a chosen one, it was never quiet for him. In the forest, there’s the scrapping of claws, wind, and twigs following him around. In his old apartment, there was the hum of electricity and the shriek of insects in the night. All that aside? There’s the constant thrum at the back of his mind, something he's chalked up to the wormhole that's supposedly in it. 

He’s struggling to remember whether he’d heard all these things when he lost his powers, whether these were just a weird “Duck thing”, when Minerva finally speaks up.

“A lonely quiet, of a war that no one has won. I— To be truthful to you, it took me quite some time to get the mechanism that allowed me to speak to you, Leo, and Dr. Drake fully functional. The universe marched on but I was alone, no one in however many lightyears aware of my existence. I was only able to keep my sanity by the resolution that the connection _must_ work."

Her eyes squeeze shut, painted blue brows drawn together. It's hard to accept that the passage of time between when her people went through "Reconciliation" and establishing connections to Earth had torn at her like this, that all of it was out of their control.

"Wayne Newton, to revisit that uncertainty, to imagine that I could have made a grave miscalculation or an unforeseen circumstance may have proven more burdensome, a greater adversary than I had thought—” The hand in between them curls into a fist. It shakes, just as it did when she had demanded that he slaughter Billy as his marked foe.

Tonight there is no blood, no opposing ideals, no threat to leave her. He just touches her. He feels the warmth he had never expected from her cool spectral form, the real, tangible flesh under his fingers relaxing, then reaching for him. She meets him like that, pressed palm-to-palm. Breathing with him until the shake fades out.

“I don’t think I can imagine what that’s like.”

“I am not asking you to, Wayne Newton.” she huffs out in an almost-laugh. It astounds him that in circumstances like these, their endless amusement at each other can still rear its head.

“OK, so I definitely… I did know that you, uh, weren’t askin’ me to do that,” he starts, “But you still did all of that impossible shit to get here you know? Like it’s mind bogglin’, but here you are. And maybe that’s the destiny thing working. Maybe destiny says that it’s right you’ve got the world’s best French onion soup, and matching ranger uniforms, and peanut butter sandwiches, and skype calls with the other chosen gang and uh, you know that you deserve it. That we know you exist, and that we’re very happy that you exist with us.”

He knows he can't fix any of it, that there's no all-powerful undo button for all the hardships she's faced, that any answer to "whys" will never make sense. It's senseless, the pain she went through. A thousand kinds of cruelty no one should bear. Still, she pulls their joined hands closer to her, brushing her lips against his knuckles. A silent _thank you_ for his presence. 

“That is a nice thought, Wayne Newton. But you did name two food items there, you desire an early morning snack?” she teases.

“Maybe?” he can’t help the slight surprise in his tone from the way the mood shifts with her joke, but she takes it for the victory that it is, they revel in small victories these days, “I shouldn’t though— should just try to get back to sleep. Here, I read those things you hear in the real world? They sometimes… sometimes slip in the dream world? Maybe we could see if listenin’ to this’ll help.”

He taps his chest and untangles his hand from hers, pulling his arm up expectantly. She catches on quick, turning off the light before she tucks her large form under his arm, fully enveloping him with her own limbs. A sense of security spreads from his stomach as her head finds its way to his chest, ear pressed right where his heart should be. She is all around him, warm, safe, alive. 

“How’re you doin' now? This OK?” He feels his voice vibrate through him, buzzing against the parts where Minerva’s body meets his.

“Well, I’m embracing my destiny, Wayne Newton.” she says, voice soft and tapering off to sleep as she speaks his name into his skin. 

He’s not far behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> _Listen, the birds sing_  
_Listen, the bells ring_  
_All the living are dead, and the dead are all living_  
_The war is over and we are beginning_
> 
> _Here it comes, here comes the first day_  
_Here it comes, here comes the first day_  
_It starts up in our bedroom after the war_  
_It starts up in our bedroom after the war_  

> 
> [Just a btw but you can find me on angomcdono on tumblr]  
[EDIT: ALSO! made fan art](https://angomcdono.tumblr.com/post/187994733963/howre-you-doin-now-this-ok-he-feels-his)


End file.
